Sea Change
by Whiscash
Summary: Cala Maria has an encounter that changes everything. (For Inktober prompt: whale)


**Sea Change**

 **by Whiscash**

 **warnings:** non-graphic depictions of animal cruelty.

 **notes:** something a little different for Inktober prompt: whale! This'll probably be the last of my Inktober shorts, or at least the last actually posted this month lol, but it's been fun! For now, have a splash of Fish Wife backstory-ish-thing~ as always, thanks for reading and I'd love to hear what you thought! :D

* * *

She was a beautiful, loving, sweet and gentle creature, and they were going to kill her.

Cala Maria swam to the surface the moment she felt the unmistakable cry reverberate through the ocean, and her hands flew to her mouth in horror when she saw her: the magnificent sperm whale, cornered by three boats and thrashing in agony as her predators thrust their metal weapon repeatedly into her skin.

On pure instinct, Cala rushed to the whale's side; she searched to meet the creature's eyes, hoping to reassure her, but she was in too much distress, twisting and pulling frantically against the rope. Cala grabbed her and held on for all she was worth, her fingers sliding across slippery blubber until she found the wound just next to the whale's spout. It didn't feel too deep – there was still a chance, but she had to act fast.

"Sweetie, I'm so sorry, but this is gonna hurt," she whispered apologetically before taking hold of the harpoon, pulling it out and hurling it back towards the boat's sails in one swift motion. She winced as the whale's shriek tore through the air and the waves – but she was free, her eyes huge with pain, fear and gratitude as they connected with Cala's. But there was no time; the vibrations in her tail told her that the mother's calves were nearby, mournfully calling for her, and they'd be easier kills. "Go on – don't wait for me! Get out of here!" she insisted, flapping her hands until the whale turned and dove deep into the sea, where hopefully she would heal and be safe.

"What the hell is _that?!_ " she heard a sailor exclaim behind her.

"Fire again! Don't let it get away!"

Cala whirled around to face the boats, and was overcome by a wave of pure, white-hot _rage_ as her gaze fell on the humans' dumbstruck faces. She'd never paid much mind to the cautionary tales of surface-dwellers before, even finding them amusing to toy with, but _this_ – never had she imagined anyone could be so callous as to target an innocent creature, a living, feeling being. Imagining that they were entitled to her life, to pulverise and pillage her body for their own selfish gains...How dare they? _How dare they?!_

" _Leave,_ " she spat, anger and disgust boiling in her blood, transforming her voice into a ferocious snarl as she swept her tail through the water, sending the men scrambling and yelling as they fought to steer the boats back on course.

"It _talks?!_ "

"Turn around! I'm outta here!"

"No!" the man at the head of the largest boat shouted, his chest puffed up with foolish, fatal pride as he looked Cala square in the eyes. "You already lost one - we ain't leavin' without a catch!"

"But _Captain_ –"

"Fire everything we got!"

Shots exploded all around her from all three boats and Cala dove out of the way, bombs barely missing her; instead, she spun around underwater and slammed her tail into the closest boat at full force, shattering the sturdy wood as water poured into the resulting hole. A chorus of yelps and shrieks sounded out as the occupants panicked, scrambling for an escape route.

Just as Cala resurfaced, however, the boat opposite launched another harpoon and caught her arm, making her hiss as the sharp metal dug into her flesh. The whalers cheered as they began pulling on the rope – as though the barnacle-brains had any chance of reeling _her_ in. Cala let them think it for a moment, though, gritting her teeth until she was close enough to the boat before ripping the harpoon from her skin with a wail that was part pain, part war cry.

She lunged for the boat, with half a mind to plunge the harpoon straight into the captain's chest – see how _he_ liked it – but instead went for their sails, tearing through them one by one until they careened dangerously on the rolling waves, the men shouting and floundering as they struggled to stay aboard. Another well-timed flick of Cala's tail and all three boats were capsized, moments away from plunging to their death.

Cala flipped her tentacles back, a satisfied smirk curling her lips before she hauled the boat back with the harpoon rope. Just before they went under, she swiftly and skilfully looped it around the captain, then his first mate, and then all the others as she plucked them from the ocean and tied them all together in a neat little bundle, a bunch of coughing, spluttering, snivelling dolls clasped in her hands.

"Gosh, what awfully _naughty_ boys you are!" she cooed, sweetly sadistic simper spreading across her face as she turned them around just in time to watch their boats sinking – they'd make a cute new home for some of her fishy friends, no doubt. "Now, I'm going to ask you nicely one more time to paddle on home, or else – whoopsie! – I might just develop a case of the butterfingers! And there might even be a few hungry sharks around here who I bet are just _dying_ to meet you…"

Perhaps it was wicked of her to giggle as the captain started to sob, but holy mackerel: revenge really _was_ sweet.

* * *

After that day, nothing was quite the same.

The whale, to Cala's relief, managed to rejoin her family and her spout was healing up fine, although the harpoon had left its mark just as it had on Cala, two raised welts slashed across her pale skin. It didn't bother her, but nonetheless caused a fair few fearful glances and whispers among the merfolk when she returned – including her own parents, who looked at her scar with equal measures sorrow and disappointment. They'd been telling her since she was a minnow to stay away from the surface, but then, they sighed, Cala always had been too curious, too stubborn for her own good.

Maybe they were right, but she just couldn't keep hiding away like the others, pretending everything was peachy just because _they_ weren't the ones being hunted for their flesh. The landlubbers had taken too much from them for far too long, and Cala refused to let them treat her home, her friends, like some kind of free-for-all buffet they could pick apart, pollute and destroy as they pleased.

So she kept peeking out around the pier as she always had, keeping her eyes peeled for boats leaving the harbour – just in case. Today, however, she was greeted by an unfamiliar – and perfectly cubic – face, leisurely whistling a tune and tapping his foot to the beat. From the way he carried himself in his immaculate lavender suit, one hand on his hip and his face lighting up as she emerged, Cala knew instantly that this guy was a different kind of proposition than the visitors she was used to.

"Well, if it ain't the dame of the hour herself!" he declared, beaming up at her like he'd just hit the jackpot. "You sure know how to keep a fella hangin' on, Miss Cala Maria."

Cala arched an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest as she glanced him up and down. "You know me?"

"Oh, _everyone_ knows you, Cala, Cala Maria!" he practically crooned, drawing out her name in his gravelly baritone; despite her reservations, she quite liked how it sounded. "You're the talk of the town – a real, live mermaid in our midst? Now _that's_ something worth singin' about – especially when, if I may say so, she's even sweeter in the scales." He winked at her, smile widening into a shark-like grin as he held out his hand. "King Dice. I run things over at the…"

"The Devil's casino?" Cala lived under the sea, not a rock – everyone from Inkwell's seas to skies knew about that joint. Sally had told her about it often enough, going back night after night even though she never seemed to win. She expected no less from a dice-headed fellow, oozing confidence and charisma from every neat purple pip. Cala trusted him a _lot_ closer than she might be able to throw him, but nonetheless, she found herself intrigued enough to accept the offered glove.

"Guess you ain't the only one whose reputation precedes her," he smirked, seemingly unfazed by how her hand completely engulfed his; he even dared to press a kiss to her knuckles after they shook, which was awfully bold considering she could send him flying with a single flick, if she so desired. "Whatever you might've heard...well, I won't deny it. But _I_ heard you spooked some sailors real good the other day."

"Perhaps." Cala kept her tone disinterested, but she could still see their terrified faces, hear them begging her to spare their pathetic little lives, remember the thrill of power as she held their lives in her hands. Knowing that she _could_ have left them to drown, but choosing to deposit them back on the shore – not because they deserved it, but because she wanted them to live to tell their tale. Though it went against everything the merfolk lived by – staying out of harm's way and preserving their peaceful existence – Cala realised, she _wanted_ the humans to fear her. She wanted them all to know that the ocean was under her protection, and she wouldn't hesitate to defend it.

King Dice hummed in interest, a knowing gleam in his eye. "You must get that a lot, huh? Buncha slack-jawed wheats gawking at ya like the carnival freak show? Nobody showing a passionate, powerful, incredible woman the respect she deserves?" He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "That's all wet. I know I don't appreciate folks stickin' their noses in _my_ private affairs."

"And yet, here you are," she pointed out, which earned her a throaty chuckle.

"You got my number on that one, Cala – can I call you Cala? Alright, I'll cut to the chase," he continued, without waiting for her answer. "Imagine, if you will, a world without any of them pesky unwanted visitors. No more ships to wreck, nobody fishin' for trouble, no need to worry your pretty li'l head about a thing. You could rule the seas as you pleased, all of your people safe, free to frolick with the fishies, or whatever you do down there. How's that sound?"

Much too good to be true, Cala knew that much, as she cocked her head with a soft, disbelieving snort. "Sounds like an awful lot of hogwash, if _I_ may say so, Mister King Dice."

"Now, now, Miss Maria." Dice spread his hands in a not-entirely-convincing display of innocence. "I may be a gambling man, but do I look like I got time to waste? Lemme assure ya, I have some...very powerful connections who can make good on any offer. You want a coral castle? Your own private isle? How's about a nice pair of pins, so you can hop up here and join me for dinner sometime? No seafood, of course." He shot her another wink, sleazy and seductive and much too sure of himself. "Just say the word, doll, and it's yours."

Cala scoffed, her lips twitching almost without her permission; it took guts to 'doll' her when she towered over him like a skyscraper, she'd give him that much. "Alright, smooth talker. What's the catch?"

"Well, see…" Dice lowered his voice, head swivelling to glance around him as he beckoned her closer with a gloved finger; as Cala leaned in to listen, she caught a shimmer of emerald in his dark eyes. "Usually, I'd suggest we go discuss the details somewhere a little more private. But for _you_ , Miss Cala, Cala Maria…" The semi-teasing croon was back, his greedy gaze travelling languorously over her body like he was drinking her in, and an unexpected shiver tingled through her scales. "I think the big guy might just be willing to make a house call. Now that I have your interest, whaddaya say we continue this cosy rendezvous later? I'd bet my own head we can work something out that'll make all three of us happy as a clam."

Cala bit her lip, butterflies of simultaneous unease and excitement fluttering in her stomach – they were talking about _making a deal with the Devil_. She ought to have turned on her tail long ago, and yet…something kept her here, whether the tantalising glimmer of untold treasures that seemed to sparkle in Dice's eyes or that ever-curious little voice in her head that always whispered _what if?_ Because the ocean was a big place – as much as it pained her, Cala knew she couldn't watch over _every_ single creature every hour of the day, all by herself. But just maybe, if she accepted a little extra help...

"You sure do talk big, Mister King Dice," she answered, pursing her lips in a pout and batting her eyelashes at him as she twirled a tentacle around her finger. "I just hope you're not the type to leave a lady disappointed."

"Oh, Cala…" He breathed out her name like the smoke from an imaginary cigar, husky and longing in contrast to the wickedness of his grin, stretching from pip to pip as his eyes seemed to glow even brighter, "just you wait. Our fun's just gettin' _started_."

And with that, he jumped straight through the pier – or at least it looked that way, except he never came out the other side, vanishing into a mysterious black hole in a dapper flash. No trace of anyone having been there at all, except the simultaneous anticipation and trepidation Cala could feel thrumming through her body, her heart beating just a little faster at the thought of what _later_ could bring. It could be nothing, or it could be everything: a chance to change not only her own fate, but that of all the creatures in the ocean who deserved so much better than history had given them.

Sure, she might have to venture into some dangerous waters, but maybe it was high time for a sea change.


End file.
